


Color Theory

by literary_shitstorm



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), It's honestly up to you, Or not, Sokka dyes Zuko's hair, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), they're gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:47:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25266352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literary_shitstorm/pseuds/literary_shitstorm
Summary: Sokkareceived [00:26]
What can I help you with Emperor Zurg?Zukosent [00:26]
Who?Sokkareceived [00:30]
Emperor Zurg? Did you not watch Toy Story as a child?Zukosent [00:30]
I was preoccupied, unfortunately.Sokkareceived [00:34]
I would say at least you’re not committing war crimes but I gotta inform you that not watching Toy Story is in fact a sin, so it all evens out.Zukosent [00:34]
Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you would dye my hair for me
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 559





	Color Theory

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in the tags, this can be read as a build-up-to-Zukka fic or just a platonic one, it is up to you, the reader. :)

Zuko was really, _really_ starting to get sick of people constantly staring at him. It wasn’t like it was a new thing, there hadn’t been a day since he was thirteen years old that he hadn’t had to endure the horrified stares of the general public; the gasps as he turned his head or the deep breaths people would take when they passed him on the street. You could say that he was used to it, but that didn’t mean that it still didn’t rub him up the wrong way. 

It didn’t bother him the way it used to. The eyes used to make his stomach lurch and his world spin, he’d be forced to make a hasty escape into some alleyway to catch his breath, hidden away in the shadows where he was sure he belonged. There used to be days where his entire reasoning for not leaving the house would hinge on the puckered scar, the final excuse to stay wrapped up in his bedsheets when he really ought to have gotten up and gone outside, Uncle worriedly knocking on his door to make sure he wasn’t having some kind of ‘episode’. For so long it had been a source of shame that still burned years after the incident, he hated everything about it, and in all honesty he didn’t _blame_ people for staring because he would do the exact same thing- but that didn’t make it any easier to cope with. 

Since then, well, Zuko had been to therapy. Years of effort had gone into coming to terms with the events of his life, the scars that had been left on his body running far deeper than any burn could have done. Change wasn’t easy, to unlearn and uproot the entire basis of one’s life took strength he didn’t even know he was capable of. Hell, he still went to sessions twice a week to make sure he was carrying on the path to recovery that he’d probably be on for the rest of his life (a fact it had taken him a long time to come to terms with). 

People staring at him was no longer something that made his skin itch, it was more of an annoyance than anything else. For most, it was probably the first time they’d ever seen a scar so vicious or prominent, but he couldn’t remember a time where he looked any different. _Yes, it’s a huge big scar across the entire left side of my face, you’ve seen it, quite frankly it would be concerning if I didn’t know about it, move on. Shows over, folks._ He just wanted to move on with his life beyond the confines of his own face; he wanted his first words to be the thing that people remembered, not the ugly mass that was a constant weight on his mind. 

The idea came to him at 3 am- meaning that it was either going to be one of the worst decisions he ever made, or it would change his life forever. He wasn’t sure exactly where it came from but as soon as it made its place in his mind it was impossible to get it out of his system. Popular to contrary belief, Zuko wasn’t actually _that_ much of an impulsive person, when it came to making big decisions he had found it suited him more to think things through than boldly parade around like he might’ve done in the past. He waited a few weeks, to see if perhaps the thought would simmer down and become less prevalent; instead, it shone brighter than anything else in his brain. 

Zuko wanted to dye his hair. 

He wanted it the be bright and obnoxious and something that people had no choice but to stare at. 

* * *

The first part of his plan involved finding somebody who could dye his hair, preferentially somebody who knew what they were doing. Upon hatching his idea, he’d come to his first roadblock almost instantaneously- he was a college student, and that meant that he was broke. Even googling the price hurt his bank account, so there was no way that was an option. 

It had taken him a few days of pondering to land on his target. 

Zuko wasn’t exactly close to Sokka, it was more of a friend-of-a-friend type situation. His introduction had come through Toph whom he had met through his Uncle’s tea shop, the girl was a regular who showed up at least twice a week; through her he’d become friends with Aang, and as a result, his girlfriend Katara. It was an unusual combination of people and one he most certainly never imagined himself mixing with, but they’d (mostly) welcomed him with open arms and adopted him as one of their own. 

He’d never felt more at home than when he was sat in the back room at the shop on a Thursday night, the ancient tv blaring some kind of insufferable horror movie he had never seen before and would probably never see again, teasing and laughing with people who made him feel like he belonged. There was nothing that brought a smile to his face like Toph’s snorting laugh, Aang’s ability to make the wackiest statements known to man, and Katara’s shocked gasp when he did. It helped that his Uncle was fond of them too. 

Sokka showed up occasionally, not often enough that his arrival was anticipated but enough that he was welcomed nonetheless. Katara had mentioned something about how he had some kind of club or class on Thursdays, the only time that Zuko spent with the entire group. The others saw much more of Sokka than he did, him being Toph’s roommate and Katara’s brother; to Zuko he was an enigma, they had never conversed directly having only interacted in a group setting and that meant, although he felt he had a gauge of the guy’s personality he had absolutely no idea about the finer details. 

He supposed it fit his cause that the first thing Zuko would notice about Sokka was his hair that seemed to be ever-changing- it was never extreme, not the way Zuko was planning, but just enough to be noticeable. 

The first time they met, it was full of purple highlights that streaked through the dark brown and blended with the bouncy ponytail that hung off the back of his head, just enough color to make it worth doing a double-take to ensure that _yes, it really was purple_. 

The second time they met, Sokka had dyed the shaved hair that had since grown shaggy on the sides of his head a deep, cobalt blue, wearing the rest of his now only-brown hair down so that the new color was only visible in snippets or when he moved his head too fast. He would be a liar to say it hadn’t been amusing to watch Katara’s jaw drop, releasing a sea of _‘I told you not to do it’, ‘Gran-Gran is going to kill you’ and ‘Again, Sokka, really?’_. Her stance dissipated within minutes (minutes filled with critical staring), when she told him that it was her favorite yet, and he planted a grossly loud kiss on the side of her head with an excited _‘Wait until I pierce my own nose again’ ‘Sokka, no, it got infected last time’._

His most recent display had been _oh so current_ , having dyed the front two pieces of his hair red and blue respectively. The entire gang had known something was wrong when Toph showed up a few minutes late to their usual gathering with _that_ smile on her face and told them that ‘Sokka would be showing up later with a surprise’. The moment he entered her shriek of ‘DID HE DO IT?’ nearly burst all their eardrums, followed by Aang’s uncertain ‘I don’t know if it’s the it you’re thinking of, but he’s definitely done something’. 

It was the it she had been thinking of. 

Zuko concluded that Sokka had experience with the task (and apparently other body modifications) and thus, he was Zuko’s prime candidate for hair dying. The next step was getting in touch with him. He’d decided to ask Aang for Sokka’s phone number, deciding that he was the least likely to ask questions out of everybody that he knew. 

_**Zuko** sent [00:23] Hey, Sokka, Zuko here. I know you don’t have my number but Aang gave it to me. _

_**Sokka** received [00:25] Who?_

That hurt a little bit, he had hoped he was slightly more memorable than that- 

_**Sokka** received [00:26] Kidding. Of course I know who you are, what can I help you with Emperor Zurg? _

_**Zuko** sent [00:26] Who? _

_**Sokka** received [00:30] Emperor Zurg? Did you not watch Toy Story as a child? _

_**Zuko** sent [00:30] I was preoccupied, unfortunately. _

_**Sokka** received [00:34] I would say at least you’re not committing war crimes but I gotta inform you that not watching Toy Story is in fact a sin, so it all evens out. _

_**Zuko** sent [00:34] Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you would dye my hair for me. You seem to have a lot of experience doing it. _

_**Sokka** received [00:37] Hell fucking yeah, dude! Is Thursday afternoon alright? I don’t have Tai Chi this week anyway so I was planning on showing up anyway, we can just go together. _

_**Zuko** sent [00:37] Thank you, see you then._

* * *

Sokka and Toph’s apartment was simultaneously as messy and organized as he would have expected it to be. The girl herself wasn’t there, probably in class. There was clutter, odd bits and pieces and just general knick-knacks scattered all over the place; Sokka was quick to explain that due to Toph’s blindness they rarely moved stuff around, mostly just leaving things wherever they found them in the first place even if it was some random spot on the floor. 

“C’mon, the bathroom’s next to my room,” Sokka had grabbed the strings on Zuko’s hoodie and pulled him with an odd excitement through their halls, “That’s where the real fun begins.” 

Sokka had been quick to sit him down on the toilet seat, rushing off with the promise to fetch his collection of hair dyes that he had accumulated over the years. He winced at the crashing sound that followed, letting out a deep breath at the shout of _‘I’m okay!’_ that swiftly followed. Turns out, Sokka had quite the collection, all the colors of the rainbow, and more sat in a box on his knees. Not that he needed it, he had already decided what color he wanted it to be weeks ago. 

“I want red,” He told his companion, “My whole head.” 

“Damn,” Sokka shuffled through the box a bit, pulling out different tubes and pots, putting some back and placing others on the sink, “That’s bold. I certainly wasn’t that brave my first time. Why do you want to dye it so badly?” 

“Uh,” As much as he tried, Zuko couldn’t for the life of him come up with an excuse, an excuse he needed because there was something unsettling about _I’m fed up of people staring at my huge, unmissable scar so I want to give them something else to stare at._

“You don’t need to tell me,” There was an unusual softness to Sokka’s voice that he had never heard before, he was used to it being loud and sarcastic. It was oddly comforting, “I get that sometimes you just need to change.” 

Normally with that kind of exchange, Zuko would have to deal with the crippling awkwardness he seemed to bestow upon any conversation he took part in, but instead, Sokka just moved on completely unphased, pulling bottles and bowls out of cupboards and starting the mix all sorts of things together. Dare he admit it, so far he liked hanging out with Sokka, he had an easiness about him that was almost reminiscent of his uncle but an energy that made him exciting to spend time with. 

“We’re probably gonna have to do a few rounds of bleach to get it the color it needs to be, just warning you,” Sokka hummed as he began to paint the mixture onto the back of his head, Zuko did nothing more than grunt in response, the reality of what he was currently doing hitting him like a ton of bricks. 

“So, how did you start hanging out with the group? Who’d you meet first?” He was really trying his best to make conversation, something in him wanted to form a bond with the guy who was currently slapping bleach on his head. It was only when Sokka barked out a laugh he realized the error in his ways. 

“Did you just ask me how I met my sister?” Zuko’s face was burning brighter than the time he accidentally spilled somebody’s order over them at the tea shop and Sokka was still laughing, “To answer your question, I was just living my best life, you know, all the attention I could ever want- I was the cute one, don’t let her tell you different- and then one day this _bitch_ shows up- _I’m kidding don’t tell her I said that_.” 

“I can’t believe I just asked you that,” It took all of his effort to remember that he was currently getting his hair done and he couldn’t bury his face in his hands. 

“Don’t worry about it. If you want to know something bad, I had to explain to Aang where babies came from when he was _16 years old_.” 

“Wait, really?” 

“He still thought storks delivered them, no word of a lie.” 

They continued to chit-chat after that, occasionally bickering about random topics but mostly (Sokka) sharing embarrassing stories about the different embarrassing things their gang had done over the years. Zuko found out that Katara and Aang had gotten together when they were in high school, and how Sokka had been wary of him on their first introduction because ‘I’m not being serious was I supposed to trust the highschooler with tattoos that was dating my sister’. He then clarified that he hadn’t yet realised Aang was the softest person he’d ever met and that there wasn’t anyone else he’d trust with his baby sister. In return, Zuko told him about how the first time anyone ever came to a parent-teacher conference it was when Iroh got custody in his first year of high school and the man had shamelessly flirted with the Principal until Zuko was so embarrassed he left without him and walked home in the rain. 

Before he knew it, he was leaning over the sink with Sokka awkwardly positioned behind him trying to rinse all of the bleach out of his hair- he tried his best to close his eyes, both to avoid burning them and the doubt swirling in his stomach about his choices, but the time eventually came when Sokka tapped him on the shoulder and told him it was time to stand up. 

Oh god, it looked _awful_. It was _brassy and orange and gross_ \- 

“Ha, ha, looks great,” The words came out along with the world’s most awkward thumbs up, a forced smile aching his teeth. 

“It looks bad at the moment,” Sokka mused, clearly entertained, “You shouldn’t make a habit of lying, you look like you’re about to shit yourself.” 

“I-“ Zuko couldn’t even muster the energy to argue, instead just deflating and collapsing back onto the toilet seat, running a hand over his face to try and regain his composure. 

“We’ve still got another round of bleach to do after this, maybe even a bleach bath after that-“ 

“ _We’re having a bath together?_ ” 

“What the fuck, no, Zuko a bleach bath-“ 

“You bathe in _BLEACH_?” 

“I…There are no words,” With that, Sokka himself crumpled into a heap on the floor, sitting with his head pressed between his knees, “Don’t even worry about it. But no, we are not having a bath together. I already had a shower today, _sorry to disappoint_.” 

It took Sokka a few minutes to work up the motivation to move after that fiasco that Zuko wasn’t sure he was ever going to recover from before he was, once again, slapping bleach on his head. Only this time, it burned. 

“It hurts,” It came out whinier than he was intending it to, “Why does it hurt?” 

“It hurts because we’re putting chemicals on your already-stressed-out head,” Sokka explained, “It sucks but it’ll be worth it in the end.” 

It went silent for a while after that; Sokka was clearly absorbed in the work that he was doing, trying to balance out the varying shades Zuko’s hair had lightened to with precision. In total truth, Zuko didn’t mind the quiet, in spite of their awkward moments the air in the room was light and relaxed- he couldn’t remember a time in his life where he was as comfortable around a person he didn’t really know. 

And then it happened, he wasn’t entirely sure where it came from but all of a sudden the words were in his throat and out his mouth. 

“I’m dying my hair because I’m fed up of people paying attention to my scar.” 

Only, it was at the exact same time Sokka said _‘Okay, so we leave that on for a few more minutes-‘_

“That’s deep,” Sokka replied, only to then take a step back and sheepishly rub the back of his neck, “Sorry. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I don’t know,” The sigh that came out Zuko’s mouth was one of frustration, “I just wanted people to look at something other than that, you know? It was like when people saw me it was all they would really see. I mean, I’m in my fourth year and I still get stared at by people I’ve been in classes with for four years. For once, it’d be nice to be known as the kid with the bright red hair rather than the kid with the huge scar on his face.” 

“I get it,” Sokka’s voice was quiet, quieter than he had ever heard it this far, “It’s a control thing. I’ve always been a little bit of a control freak, in some ways anyway. When…” He paused to take a wavering breath, “When my mom died, I felt like I was on a rollercoaster and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t make it stop. I got really possessive over Katara, hell, there were nights when I slept in the same bed as my dad- I was _17_ \- because I needed to know where he was. I went to therapy, obviously, sorted shit out. I found that experimenting with my hair was a way to be both controlled and impulsive. I can control what it looks like, how I do it, what color it is but I can do it whenever I want at a moment's notice, I can change something if I want to, change how people see me.” 

“For the record,” Zuko’s voice was raspy and a little bit thick with emotion, not that he’d admit it, “I always thought your hair was cool.” 

“Thanks, man,” The smile on his friends (He could call him that, right?) was a genuine one. “I think it’s time to wash it out.” 

“Oh, fuck, yeah.” 

* * *

“You’re sure about this?” 

“Definitely.” 

“Don’t want to consider a different color?” 

“I like red.” 

“I like red too. Once I do this there’s no going backsies.” 

“ _Going backsies?_ No, just do it already, Sokka.” 

It seemed that they both let out a breath and the first stripe of red was dragged through Zuko’s now bright blond hair. Sokka had foregone gloves- claiming he was over the ‘need to be precise’ part of the job- and was just slathering the stuff on without gloves, regardless of the warnings he had been given. 

“SOKKA!” The shout came at the exact same time the door slammed, “Are you playing with boys in the bathroom again?” 

“ _Again?_ ” Zuko hoped that the incredulity in his voice was conveyed as truly as he felt it inside. 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN SEE ANYTHING!” 

“OF COURSE I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING, YOU IDIOT, I’VE LITERALLY NEVER _SEEN_ ANYTHING!” 

“Goddamn it,” Sokka muttered under his breath, something Zuko was sure was a private admission of defeat. 

“Is that Sparky I heard in there with you?” Toph’s voice was getting closer and closer as she no doubt made her way down the hall to close in on them. 

“Hi Toph,” Zuko sufficed, “Sokka is dying my hair.” He added a thumbs up and a smile on the end of that statement, before promptly putting them down in shame, eliciting a small laugh from the person now stood in front of him. 

“I figured based on the smell,” She turned her nose up as if to prove her point, “I only came back to get a snack between classes, I would never hang out with Sokka by choice, just F.Y.I.” 

“Ya’ know Toph, it doesn’t really have the same level of threat when we live together,” Sokka hummed, patting Zuko on the shoulder in what over the course of just a few hours had become their silent signal for _move please_ and/or _get up_. 

“Whatever, I’ll do better next time,” Zuko and Sokka both cringed when she cracked her knuckles to punctuate her sentence, “Goodbye, losers.” 

It didn’t take them long to return to their comfortable silence, the only real sound being the occasional clatter when Sokka knocked something over- a regular occurrence. He didn’t even mind when his companion leaned in close with a cloth to wipe the smears of hair dye that had gotten over his forehead and the back of his neck. 

If you’d asked Zuko prior to that day, he would have told you that he thought Sokka would never stop talking, that he was a rambunctious spirit that lived to cause chaos without rest; now, he was sure that was still true, but his opinion had shifted. In his own odd way, Sokka was a calming presence similar to the wind, an uncontrollable force of nature that gave you exactly what you needed in the amount that you needed it. To Zuko he was a cool breeze on a hot day, a soothing aura that had an energy of its own and echoed of something more but was relaxed enough to be comfortable. His jaw had dropped the first time Katara had told him that Sokka was an Engineering student, the rowdy personality he knew not matching up with the calculated perfectionism he imagined that came with that kind of study- now it was obvious. 

“We’re nearly done, _Sparky_ ,” Sokka startled him with a snort, “We’ve just got to leave that on for like, an hour or something, and then you’re good to go- we’ll have to leave after that anyway. In the meantime, wanna play Mario Kart?” 

“I don’t know how,” Zuko admitted and even he knew the shame in such a confession, “I’ve never played it.” 

“How do your sins keep piling up like this?” 

* * *

Zuko could hear Sokka’s voice from outside the door; before he could step foot inside the man had tackled him to the side, demanding that he wait so that he could ‘announce him’. The cacophony of voices inside was enough to tell him that everyone else had already arrived; he felt a wave of anxiety wash over him- what if they _hated_ it? What if he just made the worst mistake of his life and he was just going to add to his troubles- 

“ _Laaadies_ and Gentlemen,” He could hear Sokka’s gravelly shout in spite of the wall between them, the rabble of friends quickly quieting to a few murmurs, “Now we’ve all heard of Zuko, skinny, black hair, yellow eyes-“, “- _GOLDEN_ -”, “Ah yes, my apologies, golden eyes. Be prepared to meet Monsieur Zuk, his alter ego.” 

“What the fuck, Sokka?” That was Katara. 

With a deep breath, he pushed the door open being sure to keep his eyes closed in the hope that if there were any negative reactions they would have time to pretend otherwise in the time it took for him to open them. 

“Well, I think it looks great,” Toph’s response came first, startling said eyes open to see her dragging her under eyes with a mocking smile, “I’m sure you look good, Sparky, obviously you could just be ugly anyway and the hair makes no difference-” 

“ZUKO!” Aang burst forward, all smiles and wide eyes as ever, “It looks _amazing_! It makes me wish I had hair so I could do something cool with it!” 

“We could always dye your head, Aang,” Sokka added from his spot next to the door; Zuko didn’t need to face him to know there was a maniacal smile on his face. 

“I wasn’t sure at first,” Katara brought her hand to her chin before lighting up in a smile, “But I think it suits you. You look wonderful, Zuko.” 

“Thanks guys,” He, for what had to be the tenth time that day, suppressed the urge to bury his face in his hands and hide away from their words, “I like it too.” 

“Well I should hope so,” Toph scoffed, “It would be pretty fucking dumb if you didn’t.” 

“But Sokka?” Katara asked, a smirk on her face that could rival her brothers. 

“Oh yes, darling sister of mine?” 

“If you were going to live out your childhood crush on Knuckles the Hedgehog through Zuko, I think you could have done the courtesy of telling him.” 

“WHAT?” The exclamation was followed by a series of coughs and joined by the rest of their laughter, even Zuko was leaning on the back of the couch for support. “I never- I can’t believe- Where did you even get the idea-“ 

“ _Pipe down, losers!_ ” Toph’s voice echoed around the room, “It’s time to pick a game, I vote Twister.” 

“Toph, you can’t even see the dots.” 

“That sounds like a you problem.” 

As much as Sokka had been joking when he talked about an alter ego, when Zuko took his place on the rug coated floor, there was something in him that felt new and shiny, like he was a polished version of what he was before. He just knew that something had changed inside, and for the first time he felt the click of comfort in go off in his chest as he relaxed in the group around him. 

The smile on his face ached his cheeks when Sokka turned around and gave him one last wink and thumbs up.

**Author's Note:**

> huh, i'm not sure how i feel about how this turned out. but if people like it i'll write a sequel where Zuko's hair fades to pink and Sokka pierces a body part (gone wrong, obviously)
> 
> this was based on a post i made on my Tumblr (@literary-shitstorm) so don't hesitate to go see me over there! if you're here from Tumblr, hi i hope it was worth it


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